All The Moments We Should Have Shared
by Wishful Dreaming
Summary: Amidst all the tragedy, it's so easy to forget that Peter and Olivia shared fifteen years worth of beautiful moments that we will never see, that they will never have.
1. Iris

All The Moments We Should Have Shared

**Disclaimer: **Yes, I do own Fringe… in another reality.

**Summary**: Amidst all the tragedy, it's so easy to forget that Peter and Olivia shared fifteen years worth of beautiful moments that we will never see, that they will never have. References to the Pilot (Specifically "And call me Sweetheart one more time, I'd really like that.") and The Day We Died ("There's no telling what the cost could be.").

_And I'd give up forever to touch you_

_'Cause I know that you feel me somehow _

_You're the closest to heaven that I'll ever be _

_And I don't want to go home right now _

_And all I can taste is this moment _

_And all I can breathe is your life_

_'Cause sooner or later it's over_

_I just don't want to miss you tonight_

_Iris,_ Goo Goo Dolls

Chapter 1: Iris Peter Bishop switched the two bags of Chinese takeout into his left hand before pushing open the door of his home. The home he had shared with his wife for one year now.

"Sweetheart," Peter called, walking in. He made a point to call her that often.

In all seriousness, his day had been one of _those _days, a day where Peter just felt hopeless. So many people, innocent people, were dying every day in fringe events. In the past, Peter would be in a bar somewhere right about now drowning away his sorrows. But he had Olivia now. He may have been the one who had turned on the machine, who destroyed the other world, but Olivia for some reason shouldered even more guilt than he did. Since the day Peter met her, Olivia was always on the verge of spiraling out of control. She just felt so much for everyone. If he succumbed to the depression, she would undoubtedly plunge right alongside him. Peter refused to see that happen.

Olivia dedicated herself fully to work. She protected everyone, him especially, she stayed in charge, made the decisions, and pushed for answers relentlessly. But Peter was the one who held her together, who made sure she didn't get herself killed, who made sure she never regretted a decision, and who made sure she never pushed too hard.

They depended on one another. They were _everything _to each other. It was what drove the hopelessness away every time.

"In here, Peter," Olivia answered from the living room.

Peter wandered in, takeout still in hand, to find Olivia leaned against the couch with papers and files surrounding her.

She glanced up at him briefly before returning to the papers but it gave Peter plenty of time to notice the deep-set, dark circles beneath her eyes.

"I still haven't found the link we were looking for between Kevin Myers and Connor Leland. I mean, for all appearances they never met each other which we know, isn't true. There has-"

Olivia stopped abruptly staring in shock as Peter began picking up all the papers and putting them back in their files.

"Peter! What are you doing?" Olivia demanded. She didn't sound nearly as affronted as usual giving Peter a decent gauge of just how tired she really was.

"Broyles called you to the scene at 3:00 in the morning and it's now 9:00 at night. And yesterday wasn't any better. I'm not sure I even remember the last time I saw you sleeping. You have to be exhausted. You are done with work for today," Peter announced with finality, setting all the files behind him on a bookcase.

He turned back to her smiling softly. He could almost see the internal struggle waging behind her eyes. After all these years, Olivia still had to force herself to let people care for her.

"I love you," Peter told her softly, breaking the last of her resolve as he gently tugged her into his arms.

She laid her head against his chest, sinking into his arms. She breathed him in deeply before murmuring into his shirt, "Love you too."

Peter kissed the top of her head reverently. "Come on, I've got dinner."

Taking her hand, he pulled her behind him into the kitchen. "Now sit," Peter ordered teasingly, dropping the bags onto the table, "We are going to sit here and pretend like we're a normal couple, eating dinner and talking about how our day went."

Peter pulled two plates and some utensils from the cabinet and sat down across from her.

Olivia grinned as she pulled a box of Sesame Chicken from the bag. "So, I'm trying to figure out how to make finding out two guys have mind control over animals sound like a conversation a _normal_ _couple _would have."

Peter shuddered recalling the particularly gruesome crime scene. It had caused him to promptly add 'Being eaten alive by any animal' to his list of ways he did not want to die.

"Okay so we'll drop the whole normal thing. We're better than that anyway," Peter allowed, around a mouthful of fried rice.

"So what did go on at your end of things?" Olivia asked curiously.

"Hmm. I watched the surveillance footage you sent me of the attacks. It was nothing short of completely disturbing," Peter paused, considering something before he admitted, "I don't think we're ever going to be able to have a pet after I saw that."

"No judgment here. Astrid said she was going to close her cat up in her laundry room until those guys were dead or behind bars," Olivia said seriously.

"You were right though about the victims being random. I was able to read Myers and Leland's lips at one point during the video," Peter informed her.

Thirty minutes later, the two were stuffed full of Chinese, had a new theory to test out tomorrow, and had ate dinner together _almost_ like a normal couple.

Peter stood up first from the table and started to collect the leftovers afraid that Olivia may actually fall asleep at the table if they stayed any longer.

"You were right about dinner. It was nice," Olivia conceded, moving to pick up Peter's plate.

"Of course I was," Peter smirked, snatching both his plate and reaching for hers, "You go get ready for bed. I'll be right behind you. Clean-up will only take me second."

Olivia narrowed her eyes and stared at him. "Peter-" she tried to debate.

"Olivia, I love you. Now go," Peter cut her off. Cupping her cheek lightly with one hand, he dropped a kiss on her lips.

She glared but marched off towards their bedroom nonetheless.

Peter shoved the rest of the leftovers into the fridge, put their dishes in the dishwasher, and wiped down the table. Like he had said, it took only a couple of minutes.

Peter made his way to the their bedroom, stopping to turn off the lights in various rooms. It was still pretty early to be going to bed but he wasn't sure when they'd get called in. It was best to sleep when they still could.

"Olivia-" Peter started to say before stopping abruptly. Olivia was on top of the covers, half hanging off the bed, fast asleep. He grinned at the scene, his heart aching with love for her.

Thankfully she was already in her pj's so he didn't have to worry about that. Gingerly, trying not to wake her, Peter maneuvered her to the top of the bed so her head was on her pillow. The only response he got was her rolling over, eyes still shut, to face him.

"Peter," she mumbled, still, for the most part, asleep.

"It's okay, Sweetheart. I'm just going to pull the covers over you," Peter told her softly. He did so, carefully again, pulling them up over her small frame. Then he kneeled down beside the bed, at her level, gazing at his wife. Brushing her long blonde hair away from her face, he kissed her forehead.

"She's so beautiful," Peter sighed, watching his own memory as if it were a movie.

He was caught in a space in between then and now, caught in between 15 years of time, watching his life in rewind. He was cheating the rules of time. He could still hear the haunting whisper of Walter's voice saying, "There's no telling what the cost may be." Except that he knew now what the cost would be, his existence.

"Are you willing to give this up, this life with her, all these moments you would have shared with her?" A voice, sounding eerily like one of the Observer's, asked him.

Peter watched the memory of himself walk around to the other side of the bed and crawl in spooning up close to Olivia. He could almost feel the warmth of her body beside him before the sensation disappeared.

"I'll get see them all one last time?" Peter questioned.

"Yes," the Voice confirmed.

"Then yes. I know we shared so many happy, beautiful moments but I also know how it ends. If I make the choice to destroy their world, I'll be effectively killing us all. This gives them the chance to repair the damage, to save both sides. It gives Olivia more than fifteen years, right?"

"Yes," the Voice confirmed again.

"Then my choice is made," Peter resolved, a tear slipping down his cheek as he observed the sleeping figures of himself and Olivia snuggled up beside each other.

**To Anyone Who Cares: **Because I think it's impossible to have watched that season finale and not write a fic about it. So all of these will be just little moments from what I'm dubbing "the Unseen Years". They will be in no such order whatsoever because I'm not nearly that organized. Also, the end of each will feature a brief moment with Peter in the "in between" because I like the idea of him hovering there watching the life he's about to give up with the Observer/Grim Reaper type person to guide him. So let me know what you think, if the idea seems interesting at all. Thanks!


	2. Everything

All The Moments We Should Have Shared

**Disclaimer: **Yes, I do own Fringe… in another reality.

**Summary**: Amidst all the tragedy, it's so easy to forget that Peter and Olivia shared fifteen years worth of beautiful moments that we will never see, that they will never have. References to The Day We Died (specifically "This is going to be one of those times when you say 'you were right.'") and The Last Sam Weiss ("You have no idea how extraordinary you are.")

_You are the strength, that keeps me walking._

_You are the hope, that keeps me trusting._

_You are the life, to my soul._

_You are my purpose, _

_you're everything._

_And how can I stand here with you and not be moved by you?_

_Would you tell me how could it be any better than this?_

_Everything,_ Lifehouse

Chapter 2: Everything "Peter. Peter. Peter. Please," Olivia pleaded with him.

Peter groaned, blinking his eyes open. Olivia's worried face came into view, hovering above his own. He was lying on the ground of warehouse building with Olivia and a paramedic beside him. The last thing he remembered was he and Olivia chasing after Daniel Grey and two of his minions. Several feet away, Peter could see them in handcuffs being loaded into the back of an SUV.

"What happened?" Peter asked his wife.

"You were right beside me running after them and all of the sudden you dropped to the ground," Olivia explained, her tone still tight and worried.

Peter indicated with a jerk of his head to the SUV. "You still got all three of them by yourself?" Sometimes he forgot just how amazing his wife was. She practically had superpowers.

"Yeah," Olivia said curtly. Now that she could see that he was okay, the fear and worry was draining from her face to be replaced with frustration.

"How is he?" Olivia asked the young paramedic who was bandaging his side.

"He pulled his stitches. We can re-stitch it here, in the back of the ambulance, if you'd like?" he offered.

"That would be nice. Thank you," Olivia nodded appreciatively. The last place either one of them wanted to be was the hospital.

Peter tried to make eye contact with her, tried to gage how upset she was but she carefully avoided every one of his soul-searching glances.

They both helped him up supporting his weight as they walked to the ambulance. Once he was settled in, reclining on one of the cots, Peter apologized to Olivia, "I'm sorry Hon."

"That's not what I want to hear Peter. I want you to say 'You were right.' I told you to stay in the office that you were still healing but what did you do. You said you were fine and came with me anyway and," her voice cracked, "You hurt yourself. I thought I was supposed to be the reckless one."

"Livia-"

"No, Peter. You have to promise to be more careful. You can't expect me to try if you won't either," Olivia said firmly.

"I will, Olivia, I promise," Peter agreed softly, bringing a hand up to cup her cheek lovingly.

"This is going to hurt a bit," the paramedic warned.

Olivia took his hand in hers as Peter winced.

"If anything were to happen to you, I don't- I need you, Peter," Olivia admitted earnestly.

"I need you too," Peter reciprocated, squeezing her hand.

Peter let the moment slip away as the Voice questioned him, "Are you sure she can handle life without you?"

Peter sucked in a breath. It was a harsh question but the follow-up was worse.

"You couldn't," the Voice reminded him tauntingly.

"She's Olivia Dunham. You have no idea how extraordinary she is," Peter defended, unknowingly echoing his father's words.

"Plus you said they won't remember me anyway," he continued.

"They shouldn't but she's done it before. She is extraordinary," the Voice threw his own words back at him.

**To Anyone Who Cares:** The line from The Day We Died inspired this one and since the last chapter Peter was helping Olivia I wanted to turn the tables. I swear I'll use some happier moments in the coming chapters. I also just had to hint at the possibility of Olivia remembering him. I hope you like it. Let me know what you think. Thank you to Amy, Cerulean Phoenix7, SciFiChik, jane emma jhan, angellcakes23, Mireya Cristina, and Starlight77 for reviewing!


	3. Happy Ending

All The Moments We Should Have Shared

**Disclaimer: **Yes, I do own Fringe… in another reality.

**Summary**: Amidst all the tragedy, it's so easy to forget that Peter and Olivia shared fifteen years worth of beautiful moments that we will never see, that they will never have. References to What Lies Below ("That's just like you…"), The Day We Died ("There aren't any happy endings nowadays") and, Over There Part 1 ("Haunted, I guess.")

_This is the way you left me,_

_I'm not pretending._

_No hope, no love, no glory,_

_No Happy Ending._

_This is the way that we love,_

_Like it's forever._

_Then live the rest of our life,_

_But not together._

_Wake up in the morning, stumble on my life_

_Can't get no love without sacrifice_

_If anything should happen, I guess I wish you well_

_A little bit of heaven, but a little bit of hell_

_Happy Ending,_ Mika

Chapter 3: Happy Ending "Really?" Peter yelled, fed up. He was so frustrated and scared that he was having trouble controlling himself. Her words had sent him straight into a blind panic. Peter hadn't yelled at her since the first week he had met her. He had anger management problems but not around Olivia, never around her. He knew the memories, the pain anger and yelling dredged up for her. The pain. A horrible, selfish part of himself, he would never admit to, knew that was why he didn't want to control his temper this time. He wanted to see the pain. The frighteningly dark part of him whispered, "_It's only fair. She hurt you_." He was human after all. She had scared him so he would do the same.

"Really Olivia!" Peter yelled again, trying to get a response from her anything but the cold, distant attitude of late. She had been empty and emotionless for a month now.

They were standing across from each other, the kitchen island between them. It could've been a brick wall.

"I don't think we should get married," she repeated stoically.

"It's called cold feet! You're just supposed to get over it!" Peter needed it to be cold feet.

"Don't act like this," Olivia demanded, ice in her voice. The façade was crumbling though. Peter could almost see her.

She had been acting like this for three weeks now, cold and dead inside. She had spent the night on several occasions with Rachel, her new husband, Will, and Ella, when she talked to him it was only about work, and she was eating and sleeping less than he had seen in years and drinking more. But Peter, up until a minute ago, had been perfect with her, as patient and caring as always. He gave her the space she so clearly needed without completely letting go. He understood that she was going through a really hard time, not that Olivia's life had ever been anything but hard. It had been eating him up inside the entire time though and like a ticking time bomb he had finally exploded. Now the fragments of their relationship lay in ruins at their feet.

It would be so much easier if he didn't love her so much. Sometimes, like now, he thought he loved her too much. It wasn't healthy for one person to love another so completely. What would you be left with if something were to happen to that person? His emotions were all so close to the surface. God, he just wanted to throw something. He wanted… he wanted to shake some sense into her. However, he would die before he laid a finger on her like that, of that he was certain. He still needed answers from her though.

Peter took several deep breaths stifling the panic and sat down. It was time to change tactics. He was going to get nowhere with anger. He should have known that. "Why Olivia? Just explain it to me. I can't help, I can't understand if you won't tell me," he pleaded, grinding his teeth.

"I just don't think we should," Olivia answered curtly like maybe if she said too much she would break.

"You did eight months ago when you said 'yes'," Peter accused, glancing at the engagement ring still on her finger.

Olivia followed his gaze down to her finger and started to pull the ring off.

Peter flew around the counter immediately and grabbed her hand. "No. Don't." He stared at her trying to discern her thoughts but she kept her head down staring at their hands. He was breaking inside. There was nothing for him besides her.

"I just need to know what's going on Olivia? You said you didn't want a traditional wedding, which I understood. Then you said you didn't want anyone there that you just wanted to do it real fast in the courthouse. Then you kept postponing it. Now you tell me you don't want to get married at all." Peter paused, hoping she would say something.

"What am I supposed to think?" he begged. He took her chin in his hand and tilted her face up. Her eyes were squeezed shut and Peter realized he must be glowing.

"You're scared," he stated softly.

"Yes." Olivia opened her eyes to stare into his. The clear vulnerability and utter grief in her eyes caught him off guard, dissipating the last of his anger. She looked haunted. It was the first time in a month he recognized her.

Peter sighed. He should have confronted her about this earlier before he totally lost control. Of course, she could have just admitted that she was scared. "Olivia,-"

"I'm sorry," she cut him off.

"Then tell me. Olivia, I care about you. I love you. I am here to listen to your worries and fears," Peter reminded her softly. She had always come to him when she was scared. He had always been the one she confided in. Peter couldn't figure out when that had changed.

"You're already going through a lot Peter. I didn't want to add another thing to your worries," Olivia admitted finally.

"So you thought freezing me out would be better. All I've done for the last few weeks is worry about you," Peter said, bringing his hand up to stroke her face.

He paused his ministrations to her face an awful thought occurring to him. "Oh God," Peter asked fearfully, "Are you okay? Is there something wrong with you?"

Her face crumbled at his words. "It's not me Peter," Olivia choked out, "Rachel has cancer. She only has a year to live."

"Honey," Peter gasped, pulling her tight against him and stroking her hair. Her sister. Olivia's little sister was going to die. Ella's mother was going to die. Will was going to lose his wife of only three months. It was awful.

Some time later found them still wrapped in each other's arms. Olivia had been quietly, slowly telling him everything.

"How long have you known?" Peter asked, whispering into her hair.

"Over a month," Olivia answered, pain coloring her words, "We told Ella three weeks ago."

He didn't bother to ask why Olivia hadn't told him. There would be dozens of reasons. She didn't want to burden him. She didn't want to say it out loud. She didn't want to talk about death when all they did at work was handle death. The results could change. She was waiting for the right time. And, the ultimate, she was fine. Olivia was always fine right up until the moment when she wasn't. Peter would be hypocrite to even think about bringing that up.

"I was talking to Ella today," Olivia continued, "She told me there are no happy endings. I never wanted her to know that. It's true but I didn't want her to know. Everyone's dying. Our world is falling apart," Olivia mourned, "You see why we can't married. It's just all so pointless."

Peter had put the wedding out of his mind; it had seemed suddenly so petty, in light of Rachel, to be arguing over it. But reminded now, he responded with conviction, "That's a ridiculous reason not to marry me. Yes, Olivia, the world is ending. Yes, people are dying by the thousands. But if anything that's a reason to _get_ married as soon as possible. We can't just stop living our lives because they're going to end soon. We live harder than ever before, with more honesty and courage and love because every single moment might be the last one. If you were to ask Will I'm sure he'd say he was glad he had the time he had with Rachel. Olivia when it all ends, when I die, I want to be married to you. I want you to be my wife because I love you. I want all of my last moments to be with you. So maybe we don't get 'happily ever after' but we have right now."

Olivia lifted her head from his chest to stare at him intensely. Shifting onto her tiptoes, she kissed him deeply. There was a bittersweet, desperate sensation to it that had little to do with the salt he could taste on her lips. When she pulled back, Peter tenderly wiped the tears from her cheeks with his thumb. He stared, eyes searching hers, needing her to say something.

"I want you to be my husband," Olivia reassured. It wasn't everything he needed to hear and she knew that. The rest would come in time, spilling from her mouth over the course of several years.

Peter tucked her back against his chest, burying his face in her hair, ignoring the way the counter dug into his back. She hung unto him like he was the last thing keeping her on the ground.

"Do you regret it now?" the Voice asked coming from nowhere and everywhere.

"Please just leave me alone," Peter begged. It was painful enough seeing these the last thing he wanted to do was talk about it, talk about his_ feelings._ The despair, the love, and the agonizing desire to beg for his life back. No, Peter preferred burying it.

"Is it better to have loved and lost or to never have loved at all?" the Voice continued, ignoring his plea, "Olivia might have been right not to want to get married. It was pointless. You just caused yourself more pain in the end."

"Then she's getting what she wanted now, isn't she. She'll never have loved me. She won't have to feel that kind of heart-wrenching love we shared," Peter said, heart still breaking because it wasn't true. Olivia _had_ wanted their love regardless of the pain it sometimes caused. It just took her longer to accept it. Olivia had grown a lot since that moment he had just watched. She had become so much more open with him.

"And what about you? What about your pain?" the Voice asked, poking further at Peter's raw anguish.

"My pain saved her. I would always choose to love her."

**To Anyone Who Cares: **So it turns out I like torturing Peter more than I ever would've thought. I swear the next few are fluffy. I hope you like it. Give me your thoughts? Thank you to restless-mess, Amy, Cerulean Phoenix7, SciFiChik, jane emma jhan, angellcakes23, Mireya Cristina, and Starlight77 for reviewing!


	4. Pancakes

All The Moments We Should Have Shared

**Disclaimer: **Yes, I do own Fringe… in another reality.

**Summary**: Amidst all the tragedy, it's so easy to forget that Peter and Olivia shared fifteen years worth of beautiful moments that we will never see, that they will never have. References to 6B and some other episode I can't remember (Bishop pancakes), Dream Logic and Marionette (MIT shirt).

_The telephone is singing_

_Ringing it's too early _

_Don't pick it up_

_We don't need to we got everything _

_We need right here _

_And everything we need is enough _

_Just so easy_

_When the whole world fits inside of your arms_

_Banana Pancakes, _Jack Johnson

Chapter 4: Pancakes "Hmm," Olivia breathed in deeply, "That smells delicious."

"Blueberry pancakes. You know it's a Bishop family recipe so I really ought to teach you sometime seeing as you are a Bishop," Peter said, grinning boyishly at his wife.

Her hair was free from its usual ponytail, framing her face with its long blonde strands. A sleepy, decidedly sexy smile danced across her face as she stood in the entryway of their kitchen.

"I didn't take your name," Olivia reminded warmly, ambling towards her husband.

"Semantics. You're still a Bishop," Peter countered, flipping a pancake.

Olivia, at this point, was standing so close to Peter that he could feel the warmth radiating off her body. It still wasn't close enough though. Setting the spatula down on the counter, Peter turned away from the pancakes to put his hands around Olivia's waist and pull her against him. Her hands slid around his neck as she pressed her lips to his. Hungrily, he responded.

"You're wearing my shirt again," he mumbled against her lips, breathing heavily.

"You want me to give it back?" Olivia asked suggestively, her forehead leaning against his.

Peter glanced down at the gray MIT shirt. The first time she had worn it, years ago, was his sign that they were really and truly past all the Fauxlivia drama. At the present, it was the only article of clothing she was wearing besides underwear. He took the chance to admire her very toned figure.

"I could help with that" Peter replied snarkily, fingering the hem of the shirt while he trailed kisses up her neck.

"Peter," Olivia hummed, "Your pancakes are going to burn."

"Right. Hold on," Peter said unhappily. Leaving one hand on her hip, Peter grabbed the spatula and hastily began tossing the pancakes onto a plate.

He was turning off the stovetop ready to return his _full_ attention to Olivia when the phone rang behind him. Cringing, Peter's eyes darted from the phone to Olivia.

"Don't do it," Peter warned even though she was already slipping out of his grasp reaching for the phone.

"I have to," Olivia apologized, picking it up, "Dunham."

Peter glared at the offensive object as Olivia stood listening to the person on the other end.

"I understand. Where did it happen?" Olivia responded, avoiding Peter's gaze sheepishly.

"Olivia, no. Tell whoever it is 'no'. We are not going in today," Peter pleaded desperately. He snatched the phone away from her, not trusting her ability to turn down work.

"Broyles?" Peter asked.

"Hello, Peter," Broyles replied gruffly.

"It's Saturday and our second anniversary today. We're not coming in," Peter said firmly, watching Olivia.

"Peter-"

"You have other agents now. Olivia and I didn't take a day to get married, we didn't have a honeymoon, and our first anniversary she was in a coma," Peter cut him off, "So whatever's going on today, you can count us out."

Olivia rolled her eyes at him.

"I know. I can call Lincoln and Avery in. I was going to tell you to have a nice day and I'll see you tomorrow," Broyles informed him.

"Oh," Peter said apologetically.

"Tell Olivia I said to enjoy her day," Broyles said, sounding pleased with having surprised Peter.

"Of course. Thank you," Peter agreed. He hung up the phone, eyes trained on Olivia.

"Broyles gave us the day off and he said to enjoy it," Peter told her, still stunned.

"He's softer than he lets people think," Olivia said, leaning against the counter behind her.

"Lucky for us," Peter smirked. He stepped in front of her, just close enough that their bodies were ghosting against each other and rested his hands on the counter on either side of Olivia, boxing her in.

"So how should we spend the day?" Peter asked huskily.

"Well, I was going to eat some of those delicious pancakes," Olivia teased, starting to reach for the plate.

Peter grabbed her wrist, stilling her movement. "Not what I was thinking."

He dropped her wrist opting instead to slip his hands around her waist, one of their favorite places to be.

"Really?" Olivia continued to play, "Is this more what you had in mind?"

She splayed her fingers out on his chest and leaned up to kiss him. She pulled away only for a moment to whisper, "Happy Anniversary Peter."

"You too Hon," he said before crashing his lips back down onto hers. Feverishly they moved together, bodies tangled together, hands in each other's hair, lips bruising each other.

Peter, lips never leaving hers, lifted her up onto the counter. Olivia, in turn, wrapped her legs around him holding him in place. His fingers sought out the hem of her shirt again and she caressed the skin just above the waistline of his pajama pants.

Love was not always slow and beautiful between them. How could it be? They lived their lives fast-paced, always on an adrenaline high, emotions heightened by all the death they saw every day. Sometimes this was their love, fiery and passionate, right where they were.

"In the kitchen?" she asked, with anticipation, her voice taking on an almost giggly quality.

"Not like it hasn't happened here before," Peter smirked.

The Voice broke in shattering the moment, the dream, the memory. Peter would never be there again. He wouldn't touch her again. He wouldn't taste her lips on his again. He would never share another anniversary with her again. In his timeline, she was dead and in hers there was no Peter Bishop.

"You're losing a lot."

"Yes, thank you for that observation," Peter deadpanned

"Do you ever wonder why _you _were chosen for the machine? Why it wasn't someone else in your place right now? Why it wasn't someone else losing everything?" the Voice asked.

**To Anyone Who Cares:** I tried that and felt extremely awkward the whole time I was writing it. So I'm really hoping it didn't sound as awkward as I felt and if it did advice as always is welcome. Thank you to WalterWalternate, Dixiegirl256, marifreica, HeartandImagination, restless-mess, Amy, Cerulean Phoenix7, SciFiChik, jane emma jhan, angellcakes23, Mireya Cristina, and Starlight77 for reviewing!


	5. The Time Comes

All The Moments We Should Have Shared

**Disclaimer: **Yes, I do own Fringe… in another reality.

**Summary**: Amidst all the tragedy, it's so easy to forget that Peter and Olivia shared fifteen years worth of beautiful moments that we will never see, that they will never have. References from The Day We Died, A New Day in the Old Town, Entrada, The Last Sam Weiss, Over There (Part 2), Subject 13, and the Pilot.

_I wait for the day to break me, I wait for the day to break me_

_I look up to the sky, I look up to the sky_

_I look back on my life_

_I look back on the life that graced me_

_Gratefully_

_When you were mine, you were mine_

_The times comes, the time comes_

_And then it goes, and then it goes_

_The Time Comes, _Nina Gordon

Chapter 5: The Time Comes

"Happy birthday!" the room full of Fringe Division agents chorused as Peter walked in alongside Olivia.

Peter turned to stare in surprise at his wife. Leaning closer, Olivia kissed him chastely on the cheek. She had tricked him into this.

"Astrid did most of it. She even baked a cake with one of Walter's old recipes," Olivia explained.

"Cake?" Peter asked, practically licking his lips.

"Look," Olivia directed, pointing to Astrid who was just entering at the other side of the room, a large sheet cake in her hands. She slid it carefully down onto a table in the center of the room while Olivia, with a grip on his arm, excitedly dragged him towards it.

It was beautiful. Thick homemade chocolate icing on vanilla cake with fresh strawberries spelling out _Happy Birthday Peter_. Distantly, he wondered how she had gotten her hands on that many strawberries. Maybe had her life turned out differently, Astrid could be working at a bakery living a normal, happy life.

All around him, the group began to sing, only slightly off pitch, "Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you, happy birthday dear Peter, happy birthday to you."

Bending down, Peter blew all the candles out in one breath using the same wish for eight years now. _I wish we could find a way to save our world._

Straightening up, Peter pulled Astrid into a friendly hug. He whispered gratefully into her ear, "Thank you…for everything."

Astrid replied earnestly with a pointed look, "Anytime Peter."

Returning to the frivolity, she announced, "Time to cut the cake!"

Olivia, beside her, picked up the stack of paper plates to help with the serving.

Olivia had just handed him a corner piece of the cake, she knew him well, when behind him, Agent Fischer asked curiously, "So how old are you, Agent Bishop?"

All smiles and lightheartedness, Olivia, with her eyes trained on Peter, leaned towards Fischer conspiratorially and mock whispered, "He's 40. Over-the-hill."

Peter guffawed and pulled out his secret weapon, "Sweetheart," he drew out the word waiting for her nose to scrunch up all cute, "You are not far behind me."

While the people around them chuckled at the couple's antics, Olivia playfully slapped Peter's arm, "Hey, you're never supposed to talk about a woman's age… and you have icing on your chin."

"Okay, you two, stop acting like such an old married couple and move out of my way," Astrid jokingly told them as she really shooed them out of the way.

As the two slipped away from group still waiting for cake, Peter suggested, eyes twinkling with mischief, "You want to get the icing off for me."

"Sure," she smirked, reaching up to swipe her index finger across his jaw.

"Got it," she murmured, staring transfixed into his eyes. She slipped her finger absentmindedly into her mouth to suck the icing off, never breaking eye contact.

And then she laughed. Peter thought her laugh was a bit like some of the great wonders of this world, made more beautiful by its rarity. This morning she had rolled over in bed and essentially attacked him. The rest of the day had continued in a similar pattern and now as much as he loved it she was laughing.

"What's going on, Olivia?" Peter asked, purposefully keeping his voice light terrified of ruining whatever this was.

"You're 40."

He understood what she meant. It was a miracle. Neither of them ever thought they would get this far. Sometimes he even found himself believing that the world wasn't really coming to an end. Of course, then a new vortex would always open. But turning 40, in a bizarre way, was giving them a sense of hope.

"It's your birthday today not the end of the world," Olivia continued. It was another turning point for them. They couldn't let the end consume every part of their lives.

He tilted his head a little, prepared to respond in some way although he was not sure what it would be. A 'thank you' maybe or just an 'I love you' but then a group crowded around them all eager to offer their good wishes to Agent Bishop, the birthday boy. Peter found himself wishing, not for the first time in his life, for all the people to just disappear and leave him with Olivia. He figured after 5 years of marriage and 11 years of working together that that was a pretty good sign.

* * *

><p>A while later the crowd had dwindled down to Peter's friends, Olivia, Astrid, Lincoln, Brandon, and Avery. Miraculously, they had yet to be called out to any scene or major disaster.<p>

"Peter," Olivia called out excitedly returning to the conference room they were all in.

Several minutes ago, Peter had noticed her slip out the door but he had been too preoccupied talking with Brandon on alternative forms of Amber to think much of it.

Now in her hands was a large gift bag that she thrust into his hands.

"This is from all of us," she explained, grinning secretively at the others who had suddenly gathered around him.

Then Olivia winked and leaned in close right near his ear and her next words caused him to wonder if she had been drinking. "I've got something else waiting for you at home."

Peter shivered maybe from the sensation of Olivia's breath on his neck or from the thoughts of what he had to look forward to at home. He shook it off though and returned to the gift currently in his hands. Astrid, Lincoln, Brandon, and Avery were all staring at him expectantly unaware of what had just transpired in front of them. Dutifully, he started pulling out the wrapping paper until his fingers touched a glass canister. Drawing it out of the bag, Peter laughed out loud. The large jar was packed full with coffee grounds.

"Is this all of your rations from the month?" Peter asked, smiling widely at their thoughtfulness and generosity.

"Not just ours. A lot of people contributed some of their ration. Senator Broyles, your brother-in-law, Will, Nina Sharp, the bartender at Poe's, someone at your grocery store Olivia says you know, the father of that girl you got out of the Amber Zone just in time last week, and several of the other agents," Lincoln explained.

"Really?" Peter asked surprised, holding up the jar so he could see it better.

"Yeah. Happy birthday Peter," Astrid confirmed.

Peter looked up at his friends and wife who were all beaming excitedly at him.

"Thank you so much then," Peter said.

Their faces blurred out of focus and Peter could almost feel himself being pulled out of the memory. He just barely caught pieces of Olivia saying, "-all the lives you've touched" before it was completely gone.

"My question remains," the Voice prompted, "Do you know why you were chosen for this?"

Peter groaned in frustration. He could never quite figure out what the Voice wanted or what it even was. It was compassionate at one point and in the next mocking, tormenting him. The Voice was guide and his destruction. Sometimes he even thought the Voice was in some way his own subconscious or something. Nothing was out of the realm of possibilities.

"What does it matter? I'm here now," Peter grumbled, before asking as the thought occurred to him, "Do you know why I was chosen?"

"Do I?" the Voice reiterated, essentially ignoring his question. "You can't deny that you wonder. I know you do."

"Fine, I have wondered why it's me that the machine is connected to. Why me specifically? Couldn't it just have easily been someone else?" Peter admitted.

"No. This was always your purpose from the very beginning, to be the creator of the bridge, to create the new timeline. You are the only one that could have performed this task. The others are all needed there in some way to heal the worlds and you are not. You, yourself, said it once before," the Voice explained cryptically. Even still, Peter understood.

"I don't belong there," Peter said slowly, comprehension dawning. It seemed he had said those words so long ago. The full truth of them had never completely hit him.

"No, you don't. You never did, not on either side," the Voice agreed.

"But Olivia was right. I did belong with her. I could feel it," Peter argued hopelessly. Couldn't he just stay with her?

"Yes, you did. That was part of the plan. Without each other neither you nor Olivia could have made the choices needed to get to this place. You needed to give her hope when she had none and she needed to give your life purpose when you thought it had none," the Voice divulged as thousands of images of he and Olivia flashed unbidden before Peter.

He couldn't even recall one of them, the two as children holding hands in a field of tulips. Had that really happened? The others he recognized like her approaching him in Iraq. One of her for every time she had saved him. Him hugging her tightly dozens of times. Her in red hair begging him to come back.

"How could you know that I would make the right choice here, that I would sacrifice myself?" Peter asked.

"Because Olivia helped you grow. She told you could be a better man than your father. I knew you would trade your life for her's, for your father's, for Astrid's, for everyone's."

"You manipulated us, our feelings," Peter accused. "If she needed me then what about in this new timeline?"

"How should I know? I already asked you about that. Remember? You seemed to think she would be fine. In any case, it was a risk that had to be made," the Voice excused.

"If were just pawns to you what _do_ you care about?" Peter demanded angrily.

"Both worlds must survive. A few lives is nothing compared to the massive casualties and eventual total destruction that would occur otherwise. Don't forget that you wanted this. This is a gift, a way to save your world," the Voice defended.

**To Anyone Who Cares:** So the beginning moment was fluffy at least. The Voice moment continued from the last chapter if you didn't realize that. There were some numbers involved in this chapter and I'm pretty sure they were right. I hope the beginning of my explanations in the Voice section made sense. Anyway, I hope you like it. Thank you to AJP910, WalterWalternate, Dixiegirl256, marifreica, HeartandImagination, restless-mess, Amy, Cerulean Phoenix7, SciFiChik, jane emma jhan, angellcakes23, Mireya Cristina, and Starlight77 (I do plan on having that coma anniversary in an upcoming chapter) for reviewing!


	6. Wherever You Will Go

All The Moments We Should Have Shared

**Disclaimer: **Yes, I do own Fringe… in another reality.

**Summary**: Amidst all the tragedy, it's so easy to forget that Peter and Olivia shared fifteen years worth of beautiful moments that we will never see, that they will never have. References from The Day We Died and A New Day in the Old Town.

_So lately, I've been wonderin' _

_Who will be there to take my place _

_When I'm gone, you'll need love _

_To light the shadows on your face _

_If a great wave should fall _

_It would fall upon us all _

_And between the sand and stone _

_Could you make it on your own _

_If I could, then I would _

_I'll go wherever you will go _

_Way up high or down low _

_I'll go wherever you will go _

_And maybe, I'll find out _

_The way to make it back someday _

_To watch you, to guide you _

_Through the darkest of your days _

_Wherever You Will Go, _The Calling

Chapter 6: Wherever You Will Go

"Hmm," Peter mumbled, swatting at whatever was attempting to pull him out of his blissful dream.

"Peter, come on. Wake up," someone whispered in his ear.

Peter's every sense was assaulted by Olivia as he dragged himself awake. They were on her office couch, Olivia sprawled on top of him, still sleeping, if her steady breathing was any indication. Hazily, he could remember convincing her to take a break with him before they started reading a new file. That was at... 9 something. Olivia had set her phone alarm for an hour later. He couldn't remember hearing it go off.

"Peter." It was Lincoln. He stepped forward into Peter's line of sight, looking uncomfortable, "Sorry for waking you up but I was leaving for the night and I saw the light still on in here. I didn't think you two would want to sleep here all night," Lincoln explained.

"No," Peter agreed, "Do you know what time it is?"

"12:30 ish," Lincoln estimated.

"Ok, thanks." He grimaced as he tried to shift Olivia's body off of his so he could get up.

"I can't believe she's still asleep. She's usually an extremely light sleeper," Peter shared. It wasn't something they did often, share. Even something as trivial as this was personal, private, theirs. He attributed the slip to how groggy and sleep deprived he felt. When he finally extricated himself from the couch and Olivia, he even swayed a little on his feet.

"Well, she chased one of Moreau's people two miles and saved my life today… twice, I think," Lincoln offered.

"Really?" Peter asked, not at all surprised, after all, he knew Olivia. "The way she told it made it sound like you saved her life."

"Please," Lincoln laughed, looking down at Olivia in awe, "We both know it was the other way around."

"Yeah, she's pretty amazing," Peter agreed, staring down at his wife lovingly.

The two men stood side-by-side watching her sleep, lost in their thoughts. Peter's thoughts couldn't help but turn morbid. Olivia was too amazing, too selfless. He just knew that one day she was going to lose her life to the job. Probably while saving someone else's life. Maybe even his own.

Outside, a crash of thunder jolted both men back to the moment. Peter looked past Lincoln to the window where he could see the storm unfolding. It would be a bad one.

Lincoln patted his shoulder and turned to leave glancing at Olivia one last time, "You're a lucky man."

Something about the look on Lincoln's face caused Peter to recall Olivia telling him several years ago about the Lincoln on the other side, the Lincoln that no longer existed. Olivia had believed that he was in love with the other her.

"I know," Peter replied even though Lincoln had already left. He reached down and gently shook Olivia's shoulder.

Peter took a deep gasping breath as the memory dissolved around him. It had been the closest one so far, happening only weeks before her death. He hadn't even been able to appreciate it, hadn't been able to savor the feeling of waking up with her in his arms. The whole thing just felt tainted by his grief. In fact, Peter wasn't positive that it had actually been raining that night or if he had just distorted the memory. It should have been a happy memory instead it just felt ominous.

"Does she at least have someone else in this other timeline?" Peter asked desperately.

"Do you mean, does she love someone else?" the Voice clarified.

"Does she?" Peter repeated, frustrated. It sounded so wrong, so twisted that he almost regretted asking. Did he really want to know?

"Do you really want to know?" the Voice echoed his thoughts.

No. Yes. No. Peter needed something, something intangible.

"I. I," he stuttered unsure. He wanted to know that she would be safe and loved and all those good things but he wanted, needed to be the one doing them.

"The problem is you haven't accepted it," the Voice cut in.

"Haven't accepted what exactly?" he demanded, sick of this merry go round game they were playing.

"Your place," the Voice replied calmly, not disturbed by Peter's attitude. "That you won't exist, haven't ever. That you can't be with her."

"How can I?" Peter cried out. "How can I just let it all go and accept that? I work with the impossible. I've seen Olivia dead twice now yet she's still alive. You can't just tell me it's over and not expect me to try to get back to them."

"Then what do you intend to do?" the Voice asked.

Peter cracked, "Just shut up! Shut up!"

His words echoed all around him and then it was silent for once, completely and utterly silent. Peter looked to his right and left, black nothingness surrounded him on every side. This was impossible. Peter screamed out again.

**To Anyone Who Cares: **Sorry, the memory's so short and unimportant and suckish but I already had the voice part written and I wanted to get this out before I went on vacation. I've already started the next one so I'll redeem myself soon. The voice part is coming together I think though so I hope you liked that. Thank you to raneonthewyndoepain, AJP910, WalterWalternate, Dixiegirl256, marifreica, HeartandImagination, restless-mess, Amy, Cerulean Phoenix7, SciFiChik, jane emma jhan, angellcakes23, Mireya Cristina, and Starlight77 for reviewing!


End file.
